Note on Purity

On a piece of paper, the white is the illusion of a featureless blast of pure light. Covered with black paint, the illusion is total darkness. Every expression of art arises from the infinitely complex interplay of the two. As does every expression of existence, every expression of life. In the merging dance of opposites, not at the limits of purity, is every beauty.

Which is a roundabout way of saying that purity is the most overrated of human values, and among its most destructive - the obsession with perfection that makes racists racist, religions brutal, economies cruel, ideologies murderous. It seems to lie behind every cult, behind the cruelty of parents, behind massive, domineering conformist institutions, even the destructive practices of agricultural monoculture.


So what is the appeal? Thinking is deeply hard and painful- and I simply mean that literally, not as some statement of intellectual specialness.  Paying attention to the inexhaustible richness of life is physically demanding. Paying exquisite care to account for all the senses is not sustainable at all moments - if you look at the view like an artist while driving a motorcycle you will quickly drive that motorcyle off the road and into that view.

Consciousness has a biological cost.

I suspect that purity offers the promise of escape from the pain of thinking. Why, one might ask, do we put such monumental efforts into creating pure green lawns, to the very real harm of the earth?  If we pull weeds, and mow, and fertilize with what amounts to poison, we gain the pleasure that the immediate environment is one, understandable thing: one variety of grass.

One grass. One color. One brand. One god. One culture. One race. Oneness. Purity.

Freedom from the physical pressure of the searching mind.  Freedom, as well, from the truth of all things.